


Brightest Colors

by sky_blue_hightops



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: @dbh ao3 fandom ily, Adorable Connor, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, First Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Parent Hank Anderson, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Supportive Hank Anderson, it's Christmas time let me live, tagging a lot bc there may or may not be more of this later we'll see, there's so many tags relevant to my interests, this is 200 percent fluff guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops
Summary: Snow was gentle, if you took the time to stop and watch it. Connor could name a few things like that, he supposed.





	Brightest Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Title from A Million Dreams - TGS
> 
> it's almost Connor's first Christmas!

When Connor emerged from rest mode on the morning of 21 December, 2038, it was to the soft crackle of bacon frying in the kitchen and the gentle, muffled quiet the android had learned to associate with snowy mornings. He blinked once, then twice, a sense of clarity washing over him as his various sensors and mechanics booted up after a full night's 'rest'.

The blanket pulled up to his shoulders (soft, warm, all words he had come to know and seek in the month and a half or so since deviating) fell to his lap with a whisper as he sat up. His eyes flickered to the bare window, its blinds pulled up to reveal pale morning light streaming through and tiny flurries drifting past lazily. Content, he leaned back into the well-worn fabric of the couch to watch the snow.

He was dimly aware of hushed chatter from the kitchen, Hank undoubtedly engaging in intense negotiations with a hungry Saint Bernard regarding multiple pieces of bacon. Somewhere in the background, Hank's half-broken radio was set to seasonal music, cheery vocals and static alike crackling through. _It is cold_ , Connor decided, shifting his feet under the blanket. The chill of the air somehow made the warmth of the blanket even more welcoming, and he tucked it a little tighter around himself.

He would have continued to watch the snow fall for the rest of the morning, enraptured, but before the clock on the mantle could tick to 9 AM Hank poked his head out from the kitchen. "Hey," he whispered. "You awake?"

Connor twisted in his spot on the couch so he was visible over the back of it, careful to keep the blanket from uncovering his toes. "Affirmative, Lieutenant. I have been 'awake' since 8:40 AM."

Hank sighed, eyes rolling upwards. "Will you ever stop calling me that? It's too early for that crap."

Connor shrugged (a mannerism adopted from the lieutenant, like many others) and rose from the couch. He kept the blanket wrapped carefully around him, heavy and comforting on his shoulders. "Did you sleep well?"

Hank shot him an appraising look, before reaching for the closest basket of clean laundry (balanced _very_ carefully between one of the dining chairs and the lip of the table) and rifling around in it. "Slept okay. More than I'm used to." He tugged a mismatched pair of socks from the mess unfolded laundry, tossing them to Connor. "Here, floor's cold."

Connor obliged, blanket held in place with one hand and the other slipping on the socks. He didn't waver, easily balancing on one foot and then the other until he was fully sock-clad and following Hank into the kitchen. Sumo received his well-deserved pats and kind words, mouth split into a slobbery dog-smile, and Connor let his hand stay on the dog's head, scritching than one behind-the-ears spot.

Hank returned to the stove, switching it off and taking the pan off the heat. "I've got some plans for today, so once we're done here get dressed. Into something warm. _Not_ ," he stressed, "that dumb dress shirt-jacket combo." He gestured as he talked, spatula waving and glistening with oil from the frying pan. A drop or two landed on the floor and Sumo rushed to intercept, tail wagging happily. Connor opened his mouth - "And before you ask, no, I'm not telling you where we're going. You'll see sooner or later, kid." - and closed it. "Go siddown, I'll be there in a second."

Hank seemed to have everything in hand, as it were, so the android moved to sit in one of the chairs unoccupied with laundry or stacks of files. Snow continued to drift past, and the some of the static rasping through Hank's radio receded.

 _It is a good morning,_ Connor thought.

**Author's Note:**

> i've had the soundtrack for TGS on repeat for a week and im living. finals week is done! first semester, conquered!! expect more fics, y'all


End file.
